


I want the world back

by Magdelope



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1896177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magdelope/pseuds/Magdelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leliana and Morrigan meet during the time of the Inquisition, both of them changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I don’t recognize her at first. She is older and has aged in a way that my body is no longer capable of. But ‘tis more than that. Her eyes hold even less childish innocence, and she looks serious. She looks like she has no smiles left in her. Her face is thinner, as if she hasn’t eaten properly for days. Her hair looks unwashed too. She should be disgusting me.  
I knew I should be focusing on what she is doing there. I’m ashamed to say that I am all too caught up in enjoying the sight of the unwashed bard. ‘Tis a shame. A shame I carry without regret.   
I no longer miss her. ‘Tis not possible to carry the memory of a person for so many years. Somebody you don’t meet or spend time with. There is no need to remember and think about kisses and touches night after night. I am above such silliness and foolhardy. I can admit to missing her the first nights but I soon forgot her. I no longer wake from dreams haunted by a sweet summer kiss. I am not filled with so much longing, ‘tis strange I’m still alive and breathing.   
Oh I wish.  
“Well, well, what have we here,” I say in my usual fashion. I want to shock her. Shake her foundation. Make her lost and confused. Make her feel like I’ve ambushed her when in reality she’s ambushed me. My foundation is the one that has been shaken. I’m the one that’s lost and confused. I hope that it doesn’t show.  
“Oh… hello,” she says. That is all.  
I want to hit her. I want to strike her with my spells. I want to pull at her hair and bury my nails in her skin until she chokes out my name. Until she hurts. Until she bleeds. I want to break her down, so ‘tis possible for me to build her up again. So she will smile again. Most importantly, so she will smile at me again. ‘Tis selfish. But I deserve to be selfish.   
“What’s wrong? Did you finally realise that your precious maker isn’t real? Because ‘tis someth…” This is when I notice that something is really wrong. She doesn’t see me, not really. She has a dead look in her eyes that doesn’t belong there. I turn quiet and inspect her silently.   
She sighs and looks at the ceiling, she looks like she wants to run away and I have to fight an instinct to reach out and try to keep her still. I need her to stay a bit more.   
“What isn’t wrong?” She says, “the whole world has gone mad.”  
I don’t smile. I don’t even attempt to comfort her.   
“The world has always been mad,” I say sternly and roll my eyes at her, “you’re pathetic for not noticing sooner.” I turn my nose up. But when she looks at me like her heart is breaking I feel something I rarely if ever feel, I feel regret. I’m again struck by the wish to reach out, to touch her, to kiss and to soothe. I want it even more than I want to bite and mark and hurt.   
“It might be so,” she says softly, “but at least the world was salvageable before. I don’t think it is anymore.”  
I reach out now, before I can stop myself and touch her cheek. It’s cold. And rough. It is not the pampered skin of a lady who cares about her looks. I would tease her about it if it wasn’t so unnecessarily cruel.   
She sighs at my touch and leans in, almost unwillingly. When she closes her eyes a single tear leaves her eye and hits my hand but I don’t remove it. I want to cry as well. I want to destroy everything that has reduced my Leliana to this. I want to give her her world back.   
“I need to leave,” she says, “I can’t afford to be found. The seekers…”  
“Damned be the seekers,” I say with such fire I surprise myself, “‘tis only afternoon, why don’t you stay for a little bit?”  
“I can’t,” she says, “I… can’t.”   
“Why did you come here at all?”  
She looks at me then, she properly looks at me and sees me as well. And then she smiles. It’s a sad smile but a smile nontheless. And for a fleeting moment that smile is my whole world. I need nothing else.   
“I thought I might sneak a peek of the Empress’ newest adviser.”  
She sounds like herself and I love it. I want to store her smile and her voice in a jar. There is a sound from the hallway and Leliana looks up in panic. She turns to me, that agitated look back in her eyes.  
“I must take my leave,” she says hurridly, “but I will see you soon again, yes? Some day when our world is no longer being torn asunder.” She moves so fast I don’t manage to react until she is right in front of me.   
“Morrigan,” she says then, “my Morrigan.” I hate and love the sudden possessiveness in her voice, “red velvet, huh?”   
Before I manage to answer, she has pressed a quick kiss to my lips and left. Leaving me behind. Stunned. Shocked. Confused. Destroyed.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time I see her, I almost don’t recognize her again. ‘Tis because she is not the broken-down creature I remember from our last meeting. She is smiling. Her hair is washed. And she is dressed a a dark blue dress that brings out the colour of her eyes. She looks like perfection. I don’t know how anyone else can buy the act. The bard does not fool me. When she turns to me, I can see the dead look in her eyes. ‘Tis a pity she is still broken. On a regular day she would have been quite a sight. Not that I would ever tell her that.  
“Adviser.” She greets me politely when introduced, even curtsy and gives me a clear view of her cleavage. ‘Tis a good thing that it no longer has any effect on me. I barely nod as a response. She is there as a seeker. I’m an adviser to the empress. ‘Tis no invention of mine that I, in present company, is better than her. I wish the thought gladdened me like it should. I spend the rest of the evening ignoring her.   
A few hours later the music is still playing but the floor is almost empty. A lot of people have left. I would like to pretend that I have no idea whether she is still here or not. But I do. I have been aware of her all the night. There hasn’t been a minute when I haven’t been able to tell her exact position. Which is why I am so surprised when she is suddenly standing in front of me. Vexing bard! How can you still surprise me? We should have gotten over that by now.  
Her smile is sad when she takes my hand and places it on her shoulder and then grabs the other. I hardly react when she starts moving to the music with her other hand on my waist, leading me in a waltz. I have danced since arriving in Orlais of course. But dancing with Leliana is different. She moves like fluid to the music and leads me with so much surety and grace. She makes me seem like a good dancer. Which I’m not.   
“What are you doing, bard?” I ask even as I let her twirl me around. The music, and Leliana’s sad smile is not allowing me to stop. She stops when I call her bard. Her eyes are wide and blue, her skin so pale, almost sickly. Like the colour of the Andraste’s favour, or grace or whatever those silly flowers she used to love so much are called. It really doesn’t suit her at all.   
“This is a ball,” she says after a little bit, “you are suppose to dance at balls.” She spins me one more time and then pulls me against her. ‘This odd being led by her. She is not like the tall burly men whose breath I can’t stand and whose hand is heavy on my waist. Leliana is shorter than me and the hand on my waist is small and delicate but holds me in a firm grip. I realise that this is the first time I’m not waiting impatiently for the song to end. I don’t want it to end.  
The song does end, ‘tis inevitable I suppose. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Leliana releases me with one last twirl. As I spin around I almost expect her to be gone when I come around again but she is still here. I raise an eyebrow at her. Apart from the guards at the door, it’s only me and her left.   
“I thought you would be gone by now,” I say, “don’t you have a precious inquisition to return to?”  
“I came back,” she says, “I wanted to see you again.”   
‘Tis odd for her to admit something like that. Gives me the upper hand and as sweet as Leliana might seem at times she has never been so foolish as to willingly give me the upper hand.   
“Did you now?” I’m fully prepared to take advantage of it until she looks at me again, the intensity in her eyes making my heart pound faster.   
“Yes I did,” she says, her smile somehow teasing and sincere in the same time. She leans forward and presser her cheek against mine, her lips close to my ear.  
“I couldn’t stop dreaming about you, Morrigan,” she whispers, “and you know me, I always follow my dreams.” When she leans back again, her smile is definitely teasing. I want to bite her lip. The stupid bard. Blast her for making me feel this way. I want to wipe the smile off of her face. I want to take the control back. It’s rightfully mine. I let my fingers close around her wrist in a silent warning but to my disappointment she doesn’t look surprised, she looks happy with my reaction. Relieved. I tighten my grip, digging my nails into the soft flesh of her wrist. She sighs and closes her eyes.   
“Morrigan,” she whispers, “please.” She doesn’t have to say anything else. I know what she wants. What I don’t know is why I want to give it to her, but I do. I lighten my grip on her wrist and grab her hand instead. Then I take her to my room.


	3. Chapter 3

I take her too my bed chamber. ‘Tis an exclusive room, full of mirrors and soft fabrics, enough to have made my childhood self jealous. It has a bathtub which every evening one of the maids fill with sweet scented bubbles and warm water, and a bed that matches the one of the Orlesian Empress. I am very lucky indeed and I want to show off to the bard. Look what I got. Look how far I’ve come. ‘Tis annoying that she only has eyes for me. Those big blue orbs are so fixed on my face it feels like she is staring into my soul, ‘tis very disconcerning.  
She doesn’t notice my expensive things or how the room even smells beautiful. All she does is grab hold of the back of my neck and pull me towards her. Covering my lips with her own. Kissing me with such a hunger and desperation that it almost scares me.   
“Bard…” I say and attempt to pull away but she doesn’t let me go, instead she looks at me with eyes now filled with tears.  
“Morrigan, please.” Her voice drives me mad and I have no choice. I pull her towards me, my body suddenly aflame. Since she wants it so much, I’m going to give it to her. Even if she will live to regret it.   
I let her kiss me for a bit longer but then I push her away and towards the bed. She walks backwards and I can see that she is trying to push seduction into her step but it’s hard. She is tired and broken. That’s okay. I am going to make her better, after breaking her completely.  
She smiles seductively at me even though her eyes are still sad and I get angry. How dare she try to seduce me again. How dare she make me feel so weak.   
I shove her down on the bed and dive down on top of her, imidiately diving down to bite her neck. She whimpers at the sudden bite and struggles but I keep her still, my hand on each wrist, pushing her down into the mattress. Eventually she goes still.  
I sit up with my thighs on either side of her waist, straddling her.   
“Lay still,” I command. She looks at me then and instead of death in her eyes I see remnants of fear. Good. She should fear me.   
She looks at my face as I start untying the bodice of her dress, but I grow impatient and eventually rip it, my hand temporarily turning into a clawed paw to aid me.  
“Morrigan, please.” It’s a different type of pleading, but I don’t care. I move the ripped fabric away and reveal my price. The price I get for waiting in this hell-hole of a room, for keeping to my duties instead of doing what I want to. My price for being obedient and faithful. ‘Tis over now.  
I move down and pull at the fabric, eager to have her skin under my fingertips, pretending that the mere sight and smell of her doesn’t allow her to play me like an instrument.  
I waste no time, closing my lips over her nipple and tugging sharply. She cries out above me but I ignore it, and apply teeth to the pressure.  
“Too much,” she whines and tries to move her hands again but I don’t let her. Instead I move over to her other breast and does the same there, noticing to my delight a pink blush spreading over her chest and when I look up I see that it’s on her cheeks as well. Her mouth is deliciously open and she is breathing heavily. My gaze fall on her lips and I can’t help it. I need to claim her mouth again.  
I push myself up her body and covers her mouth with my own, sucking and biting and licking. I feel her squirming underneath me and both of us gasp for air when I finally withdraw. I give her a moment of reprieve before attacking her again. When her attention is on my mouth, my hands keep working to get the blasted dress off of her, wanting her naked and vulnerable underneath me.   
I don’t reach of course, and will myself to leave her mouth so that I can pull the dress the rest of the way. I get up, watching her for a moment, thinking that she will try to move. Her eyes are closed and her bare chest is heaving up and down, gasping for air. But she makes no movement. She also lifts her bottom so that I can easily pull her dress off. Good girl.   
When she is completely naked she finally looks at me, but I cannot read her expression. I see some fear in there, but also desire and something tender I don’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. She is so stupid. I hate her. But when I move up her body again, I can kiss her only with tenderness. ‘Tis inexplainable.  
When she moves her arms to cradle my shoulders in an embrace I want to push her down again, I want to slap her and hit her and tell her to be still. But I don’t. Instead a pathetic moaning sounds escape from my throat and a fire I don’t recognize, starts burning low in my belly.   
She sucks on my bottomlip and a sob escapes me. When I open my eyes I see that she is crying and my heart aches for her. I cannot name the emotion I am feeling, but it’s slowly consuming me, I don’t know what I should do.   
She releases my lips and my shoulders and her naked arms fall above her head, wrists crossed. She looks up with me, her expression filled with love and… it looks like pity, but when I think about it, sympathy is probably closer to what she is feeling. Or at least I hope so.   
“Morrigan,” she says and I fear she is going to start crying again, her voice is thick with sadness. Don’t worry, Leliana, I want to say but my voice has stopped working, I will make you forget. But what she says throws me off.  
“I’m yours,” she says, her arms still above her head in a submissive gesture, “for tonight I am yours.”   
I don’t want you. It’s what I want to say but instead my heart nearly thumps out of my chest and I choke out something between a sob and a growl. I hate her again, I hate her for her ability to reduce me to something so pitiful.   
I dive forward again but cannot will my bites to be anything but gentle, my lips soothing after each one. She twitches underneath me but she doesn’t struggle. She wants to please me, and she knows I want her to lay still. She knows that our romance is explosive enough to have caused the wretched tear in the fade so it’s better for her to just lay down and let me take what I want.   
I rain kisses over her face, shoulders and bossom while she whimpers and almost giggles. She is herself again and my cheeks heats with joy. I’m reminded of another time. Of tents. Of dogs. Or wardens and archdemons. Of Leliana. Of all the things two women desperately in love while the world is ending can do.   
When I let my hand go lower and glide through her heat, I am met with so much wetness I groan. Oh Leliana, oh sweetheart. She goes still above me, hardly breathing but I can feel her heart razing under my lips and I smile to myself. She plays my heart like a lute, it’s only fair I play her body. It’s my revenge. I will make her come apart.   
When I go inside her with two of my fingers, her muscles clenches around me and when she moans in such a sultry fashion, my own muscles clenches around nothing. I drive forward right away, I give her no time to acclimate but it’s fine. I know that this is the way she likes it.  
“Morrigan, Morrigan, Morrigan.” Hearing her say my name in that voice drives me to the point of madness and I move on top of her so that I can use my thigh to thrust harder into her. She claws on my back and I wish I was undressed as well. The vulnerability would have been worth it to feel Leliana’s hands on my bare back.   
I am so caught up in Leliana’s sounds and movements and how good she feels around my fingers, I haven’t noticed how she has sneaked her thigh in between mine and I’ve started a harsh grinding movement against it. It wasn’t part of the plan. It was supposed to be about her, not me. I don’t want to focus on me at all. But I cannot stop the movements of my hips, not when she has placed her other leg around my waist and is pressing me closer.   
“Leliana!” Is that my voice?  
“Leliana, please, blasted damnation, I’m going to…”  
I don’t notice what’s happening, at one moment everything is normal and at the other, Leliana contracts around my fingers and it sends me flying over the age. It’s too soon and too desperate and I grind my teeth through the strange mixture of pain and pleasure.   
I wake up a moment later, lying next to her with my hand still between her thighs and my other hand on top of her mouth even though I don’t remember placing it there. The soft muscles between her thighs are gently quivering around my fingers and I don’t want to move them, not when they have found their home.  
I remove both my hands and Leliana whimpers softly as I take the one between her legs away.   
“Thank you,” she whispers, more tears falling down her cheeks but I ignore them. I am not a gentle person, and I don’t think she expects me to be either.  
“Don’t thank me, bard,” I say and sigh, strangely tired and content. I sit up and remove my own clothes, carefully folding my clothes as I put them on a nearby chair. When I’m finally naked I lie down next to her. She smiles at me and pulls me close, our legs entangling and she pulls my hair loose. When it tumbles over my shoulders in a dark waterfall, the loving look in her eyes almost makes me tear up. I swallow a couple of times.  
“Can I sleep here?” she asks, still fingering a few strands of my hair.  
“Yes,” I say, looking forward to pulling my blanket over our heads and creating our own little safe world.   
I cannot help but notice how she looks so much better than before we entered my bedchamber. She is younger, more alive somehow. Instead of feeling superiour and smug, like I had expected, I feel humbled. I feel grateful that I, for a few hours, have been allowed to take care of the wonderful creature that is my Leliana. Now I want to fall asleep, knowing that I can keep her safe for just a little while longer.   
She has closed her eyes and her breathing has become calm and even. She has fallen asleep before we have even had a chance to place our heads on my pillow and put the blanket around us like a protective shield. It is okay. She continues sleeping peacefully as I shift my arms into the front legs of a bear and pick her up easily, placing her on the top of the bed. 

 

The end


End file.
